Eye of the Storm
by This-is-my-toenail-collection
Summary: Bill kills Dipper during Take Back The Falls and accidentally ends up in Dippers old body. Bill's already insane, but how crazy will he be stuck as a human. Not just any human, but Pine Tree. Will Bill grow fond of being human, and will Dipper come back for his old life.
1. Chapter 1: Corporeal

Chapter 1: Corporeal

"Huh?" Bill sat up to find himself on the forest floor. Autumn had just settled on Gravity Falls and the colored leaves from the trees littered the ground making a tapestry of red and gold.

The spongy carpet was so fresh it was not yet marred by rainwater. Bill attempted to fly up to get a better view of where he was, but only succeeded in looking ridiculous sitting on the ground with his hands on his hips.

"WELL THEN," Bill thought to himself, "I GUESS I'M GROUNDED."

His attempts at standing were also fruitless as his legs crumpled weakly underneath him, So he sat at a loss for what to do. It was nice out, a little chilly maybe, but that was helped by the vest. The air smelled of mud, which doesn't smell as bad as you'd think. The taste of mud, on the other hand, was less pleasant, and wouldn't seem to leave his mouth.

Mouth?

Sure enough, bill had a mouth, and a nose to smell the mud, and none other than Pine Trees vest to keep out the chill.

In fact, On closer inspection, the nose and mouth were Pine Trees too. As were the legs that were currently useless.

Bill took a deep breath, simply because he could. He felt Pine Tree's lungs expand, it felt good, no wonder humans did it so often. It actually helped clear his head so he could think better.

He must have gotten his old puppet back at some point, but when?

Then he remembered Wierdmaggedon, and those stupid pines twins thinking they could run away from him. He remembered finally catching them and watching them squirm in his hand as he decided which one to kill, even though he knew which one it was. He remembered almost feeling bad for Shooting Star as he snapped his fingers and ended her brothers' life.

Almost.

Then there was the scream.

The hellish noise Shooting Star made when she saw her brothers death that caused Bill to drop them both. He remembered Shooting Stars silly tears over Pine tree, he remembered the death was enough to bring 6er to his senses and shake his hand.

But that's where it all went downhill.

He couldn't even enter 6er's mind because he was being pulled somewhere else...

And that was it.

that was all he remembered before he woke up here, in Pine trees body.

But it didn't make sense, he couldn't have been out for too long, where was the fearamid? and his henchmaniacs? There's no way he lost!

But he had and he knew it, and all he had now was a dead puppet, but even that wasn't accurate. He'd had this puppet before, but it was never like this. Before it was just a meat bag weighing him down, something that's mildly useful for a brief moment then discarded once it's value was spent. This was different, he could feel everything; the hat sitting on his head; the Autumn breeze blowing across his skin; and the dull, throbbing pain in his right arm and lower back.

Usually, Bill would like the pain, but this wasn't the sharp stabs of forks or other flesh wounds. This was a frightening I-don't-know-what-caused-that pain. It felt more dangerous like it might cause permanent damage.

Bill sat on the forest floor in Dipper's body and played with the leaves. They felt so real, so animated and lifelike, he never felt so much as a demon, and he never felt so much in a puppet. That's because now Bill wasn't a puppet, he was corporeal.

And it's the weirdest thing he's ever done.


	2. Chapter 2: SHMEBULOCK

Chapter 2: SHMEBULOCK

Eventually, Bill got bored with the leaves and decided to try standing again. He managed to drag himself to a nearby tree for support and pick himself up onto his shaky limbs.

'THIS WAS SO MUCH EASIER AS A PUPPET' he thought to himself.

He didn't know exactly how long he was occupied with the leaves, but it was probably an embarrassingly long time judging by how low the sun had sunk in the sky. The sunlight trickled through the branches of the forest casting shadowed shapes on the carpeted floor.

Bill thought hard about how humans walk, but the information just wouldn't come to him. Being in Pine Trees body, he could understand how he lost his control over time/space, but this was his knowledge! It can't be gone too! All he could find were memory's of people walking and vague instincts of how the muscles were supposed to move to accomplish this. This probably belonged to Pine Tree, but they would have to do.

He took a hesitant step forward, careful to move every muscle correctly. he managed the step, but just barely, and after was only able to stand in one spot trying to keep his balance.

How did humans walk at the paces they did with only instinct to go on?

Bill was pulled out of walking practice when his ears suddenly moved on their own. This startled Bill so much he fell back down to the ground, only avoiding landing flat on his face due to another unexplained human reaction of putting his arms out to catch himself. This did not, unfortunately, stop him from looking like a dufus.

They move on their own? Or was he being possessed by Pine Tree?

He wanted to tell Pine Tree to leave him alone and that he'd won this body fair and triangle, but figured he'd tackle the issue of communicating through a mouth later.

There was a far-off sound and his ears moved again, but not nearly as much this time since they were already listening.

Why was Pine Trees body going to that much trouble to hear something that far away? Was he really that paranoid?

The sound came again, closer this time. What is that anyway?

Bill felt oddly vulnerable, something he hadn't felt in a long time. He was sitting on the ground; in easily the most dangerous forest on this planet; in a squishy, easily damaged body; without any of the knowledge he previously had, much less how to walk.

He listened as the noise he heard grew to a cacophony of rustles and scratches. whatever it was, there were lots of them and they were coming quickly.

Bills experience, when something was coming for a human, they ran. It was really quite annoying, but Bill didn't feel like running at all, in fact, he didn't think he could if he tried, he felt frozen to the spot. Maybe humans ran just to spite him.

The rustling grew until it filled the entire forest with its hellish noise. Bill shuddered for an unknown reason but passed it off as just the chill in the air. He could not, though, ignore a rising pressure in his chest, it was uncomfortable and he couldn't identify it.

the noise gradually quieted as whatever was coming finally came to a stop just outside his field of vision. The forest was a lot quieter than it should have been, but Bill couldn't shake the feeling he was being watched.

That, he had to admit, was probably pretty ironic.

The silence stretched out in the tense evening air for far too long before a voice called from the forest.

"Hold on guys! Wait a minute, Carl! Drop the stones! Call off the attack." A little man appeared out of the trees and gave a wave of greeting. "Hey, Dipper! Welcome back to the land of the living!"

Bill just blinked, a memory coming into focus.

He was there, so was Mabel, the gnomes were all one big gnome, Mabel had a leaf blower? There was an overwhelming sense of triumph! Then it ended.

Bill blinked his eyes in as much unison as he could manage and tried to bring himself back to the present.

Abruptly, Jeff started talking again, "Hot dog! I can't wait to tell your sister you're alive! she'll have to marry us."

Unfortunately, Bill knew exactly what Jeff was talking about and he actually considered playing along just for fun, but Shooting Star would recognize him immediately and then he'd be at the mercy of Sixer, or worse, Shooting Star herself.

She was probably the least threatening thing he'd ever seen, but he remembered the way she looked at him after he'd killed Pine Tree. Like she wanted to turn him inside out and microwave him until you couldn't tell him apart from the average nacho. Now that he was human, he didn't doubt she would.

"Hey...uh", Jeff looked awkward, "earth to human."

"Oh? Ahmomatak."

"Come again?"

Curse this stupid, complicated human mouth!

"SHMEBULOCK!" an indignant call from somewhere behind Jeff.

"Huh? Hey calm down"

"SHMEBULOCKSHMEBULOCKSHMEBULOCKSHMEBULOCKSHMEBULOCKSHMEBULOCK!" A crazy looking Gnome appeared out of the woods pointing wildly at Bill, shouting 'SHMEBULOCK!'

"Hey...hold the phone! You're not Dipper! You're that triangle thing!" Well, that works.

Bill simply nodded his head sarcastically. He wasn't sure exactly how he expected the gnomes to react. Judging by the memory, Pine Trees history with the gnomes wasn't exactly friendly, but still, they looked happy to see him. Now they looked wary, probably with good reason. Jeff began to back away.

"You caused that disaster last week!" Last week!? He was out for a week?!, "You're the reason we had to eat Phill!" Ok then? "And you killed Dipper!" Who Pine Tree? The gnomes didn't exactly like him.

"You've messed with the wrong creatures, Gnomes ATTACK!"


	3. Chapter 3: Trapped

Chapter 3: Trapped

Gnomes, ATTACK!"

There was less than a moments pause before the rocks came down like rain. Frozen, Bill heard the projectiles hit him before he felt them.

Dull thudding on his-no Pinetrees'-skin followed immediately by a barrage of sharp pains where the stones struck.

It happened too fast to prepare for, and too fast to process before it was too much to handle. By the time Bill could re-orient his thoughts he was in full sprint away from the hoard of strange woodland creatures.

He could feel it.

His whole body was in a panic mode pumping emergency chemicals into his bloodstream. He couldn't feel the bruises and lumps from the attack over the sensation of his feet hitting the ground.

His heel hit each stride with a sharp thud, his weight shifted evenly down each leg as he tore through the trees. The air rushed past his face as he gulped down breaths, each one fueling him and fueling that unbelievable feeling.

No longer running away, just running forward. The Gnomes were forgotten, the stones and the bruises and the embarrassment were left behind unable to catch him.

It all came so easily! The muscles knew how to go forward or dodge a tree. He didn't even have to think!

He took a risk, with his forward momentum he sprang into the air, and soared clear over a fallen log. His feet hit the ground harder than he expected and still kept going.

Durable.

His chest was heaving as he sucked down as much oxygen as he could, pushing his new, durable legs as far as they'd go.

Alas...far was not as far as he'd hoped.

It only took one wrong fall, his left foot hit mud and lost all traction causing him to fall forward and over himself several times.

He'd been going at such a speed the sudden stop had flung him off his trail and down a steep hill towards a creek.

Futile attempts to grab hold of shrubbery or anything to stop his fall left scratches and lacerations over his arms and face. He tumbled helplessly down the unforgiving forest terrain preying for the Axolotl to just let him hit the ground already.

That was when he rather suddenly made contact with the shale creek bed below.

He felt the air he craved ripped from his lungs as he processed no longer being in motion.

He lied there choking and unable to move for what felt like hours. His heart beat like a bee's wings and refused to slow down at his command. Agonizing minutes passed as he tried in vain to stop his panicking body, but his logic was failing him.

He felt the pain, the pain of everything from the rocks to the scratches. He also felt a sickly warm liquid pooling around his head and shoulder, this started the thinking.

He started thinking about horrible things. Things like dying alone in the middle of the woods due to asphyxiation or blood loss. He was abruptly confronted by the incredibly possible outcome of his own death.

It was an unfamiliar concept, the idea that if he didn't do anything about this, he would most definitely die. And even if he did do something he had no guarantee of living anyway. And, the most disturbing thing... He wasn't sure he could do anything.

His body felt weak from the sprinting session and broken from the stones and the fall. His arms and face were covered in fire from the scratches and dirt. He was cold from the blood steadily seeping he assumed from his head, and of course, his lungs were beginning to ache from not being able to breathe.

He could... Probably would die here.

Defeated, in the shell of a species he despised, in a town he couldn't escape.

He was no god or demon, he was the ultimate form of trapped. Rendered as helpless as those he'd victimized. Fitting really, live the loudest, aspire to be the greatest, but ultimately die forgotten. It wasn't something he wanted to accept, but he seemed out of strings to pull.

He closed his eyes and told his heart to stop.


	4. Chapter 4: No Weakness

Chapter 4: No Weakness

Waddles was quite happy with his new home.

He had been there with his human for a few days and he liked how it already smelled like her.

She, however, liked it less.

Waddles wasn't the smartest pig in the world, but he knew his human's unhappiness was because of the lost one. The one who left and didn't come back after all the weirdness.

Waddles hadn't known the lost human as well as his own human, but he knew the two were close.

He knew they shared a sleep space and they were together for many years. He also knew they were from the same litter, something rare among humans he noticed, and they were incredibly aware of each other as a result.

He wished he could bring back the lost one so his human would be happy again, but where did he go?

All this was too much to think about for the average pig, so Waddles decided the best course of action was to lay next to his human and lend her his support as she stared out the window.

She couldn't be sad forever could she?

0

He closed his eyes and told his heart to stop.

…

It didn't.

Bill waited for his heart to respond but it just kept beating, futilely pumping more blood through his veins and out his head wound.

Bill squeezed his eyes shut against the pain, once pain was so funny but now it was nauseating.

He couldn't tell his heart to stop, he couldn't tell his lungs to collapse or order his brain to die.

He was trapped with the pain, more pain than he could remember ever being in. It was inescapable.

Bills chest swelled with….an emotion probably, definitely a negative emotion. As if to make his situation more miserable, something dripped onto Bills face.

He briefly thought it was raining and opened his eyes again confirm his suspicion, but there were no clouds or drips only trees.

Yet still, Bill felt more water dropping onto his face and in his eyes as the feeling in his chest constricted him further.

He brought a hand, the one he thought was the least broken, to his face to dry it only to find the source of the water was his eyes themselves.

He was crying.

The thought of him, Bill Cipher, sitting broken and alone was enough to embarrass him to no end but now he was crying about it. Crying like a stupid mortal kid who's lost…

Crying like this body is used to doing when it's frustrated.

Crying like Pinetree.

Bill stopped crying immediately, frustration and pain being replaced by horror and disgust.

This body...wasn't his, it never was and now it had its hold on Bill. It was changing Bill, acting in ways Bill wouldn't and forcing him to be along for the ride.

He couldn't permit this, he wouldn't be held down by _feelings_ or _pain_ or other such human restrictions.

He was an unstoppable, unchangeable force of pure power and chaos. He was an omen, a demon of evil bent on hostile takeover and destruction.

He was a being of pure energy.

He Had. No. Weakness.

Bill rose to his feet, injuries be damned. He needed to regain his throne and the first step was to get out of this time forsaken forest.

He would follow the creek, it would lead him to some civilization where he could lay low and begin to reattach his strings to this world.

Bill didn't even have to think to start walking. His mission was still in his mind and he would make his vision a reality if it took him _another_ billion years.

He didn't think of anything else as he set off downstream.

He didn't think of the tight, persistent pain in his right ankle as he walked, or the disturbing warm liquid drying to the side of his face, or even the way he couldn't breathe as deeply without his whole chest burning.

He just walked, mechanically forward. Walking was all he'd really learned how to do.

The golden light trickling through the branches of the forest quickly dimmed to an orange as the sun sank lower in the sky.

Bill could feel the chill of the evening seeping through Pinetree's puffy vest and t-shirt, but he ignored it like he ignored the other human deficiencies that came with the meatsack.

As night came the trees became harder to see and navigate around, soon Bill was left walking with one arm outstretched to feel at his surroundings.

The other arm was in significantly more pain and was left wrapped around Pinetree's now shivering body.

The sound of the creek trickled unceasingly in Bills ears. Both annoying him and comforting him that he had not strayed from his chosen path.

The night dragged on as Bill walked mechanically. Sometimes he thought about things, visiting old memories of Pinetree's or preparing his scheme for escaping his new fleshy prison.

Other times he just listened.

Listened to that infernal creek, listened to the crickets and other insects buzzing out of his inferior sight range.

He had grown used to Pinetree's ears shifting involuntarily at sudden noises. Of course, Bill could always hear just fine, but he had never had ears…

This body was a lot of things.

It was a prison, a sweaty, awkward prison even by meatbag standards. It was a horrid weight that held Bill hostage in an inferior dimension.

But...as Bill listened to the sounds of bugs and birds and leaves, as his mind was dazed by fatigue and blood loss, he thought to himself.

Maybe this wasn't the _worst_ prison for his crimes.

And it was that thought that he was left with as his body went into autopilot and his brain shut down to rest, and he thought of nothing at all.

He couldn't have known he had left the woods of Gravity Falls.


	5. Chapter 5: Half of Mabel

Thank you for the nice reviews! They are my motivation.

0

Chapter 5: Half of Mabel

Bill woke to a pain that made the previous day's pain pale in comparison. Oh, how he had underestimated how much he could suffer.

His arms and legs were as heavy as lead and they felt as if someone had poked needles into every square inch of his skin.

His head felt like it was splitting open and the soreness from walking all night wasn't nearly as pleasant the next day.

The pain wasn't the only thing Bill was focused on, however, after a while being hurt just becomes the new normal. An incredible feat for this body, he'd begrudgingly admit, to make this feel acceptable.

No, Bill was focused on a new discomfort.

His throat was completely parched. Pinetree's instincts told Bill he needed water, and since said instincts hadn't been wrong yet, Bill decided if he was going to be human against his will he may as well commit.

Slowly he rose to his feet, mentally shoving away the pain with a reality check. His own coping mechanism he'd devised overnight.

He'd been following the river for a while so it wasn't difficult to find. The difficult part was trying to actually _drink_ it.

He walked along the bank for an embarrassingly long time trying to work out just what to do. He'd seen humans drink before, out of cups or soda cans, but this was new territory.

He mentally cursed his lack of omnipotence for the 80th time since starting this wacky-torture-porn-adventure and resolved to just use his hands.

The thing about hands is...they're _far_ more complicated than feet.

Bill had experimented with trying to use his hands, grabbing branches, curling each finger separately, etc, but making his hands into a cup was such an awkward way to hold his muscles.

He crouched by the creek trying his best to make his hands obey him. Cupping one hand then the other, trying to cup both at the same time, but crouching was also something he wasn't good at.

He didn't know he needed to balance.

He tipped forward and hardly had enough time to catch himself with his hands as he toppled into the creek.

The water was cold and the sensation of it on his skin was something he'd never forget.

After the initial cold shock, he was left mesmerized by its actual consistency.

It felt like air but...thicker, it was cool and soothing on his cuts making his tense muscles relax.

This is great, no wonder the humans were upset when he made all the rivers into blood and molten steel.

He sat for a long time in that creek, cleaning his wounds and thinking about things. It was when he left the creek that he realized how cold it was.

His watersoaked clothes stuck to his skin sapping all heat from his body. It also made him much heavier and Bill had to leave Pinetree's waterlogged jacket behind.

He set off again through the woods, only this time he didn't think as we walked, he practiced.

He practiced making sounds with his human mouth and finding the vowels and consonants he remembered. He practiced stringing them into words or parts of words.

After several hours he found he could confidently pronounce some simple phrases such as "Hello" and "My name is Bill".

He still couldn't improvise his words in a conversation, but he was satisfied with his progress.

All seemed to be going well, continued walking seemed to help his stiff muscles and practicing using his new form kept his morale up.

Then he was attacked.

It wasn't like before with the gnomes, but Bill would swear until the milky way's death that the damn pig had been out for blood.

0

Mabel wasn't there.

Sure her body was there and her pig thought she was there, but she wasn't.

Mabel knew that that amazing girl had died with her brother.

Now there was half of Mabel.

Half of Mabel stared blankly out her bedroom window, she had spent the first day home without Dipper crying on her pillow and telling waddles how it wasn't fair and how this couldn't have happened to _her._

But it did, and it only took a few days to run out of tears.

Now all she could do was wish.

She wished she had a time machine to go back and stop it, or at least to go forward to when she'd feel whole again.

Dipper wouldn't have wanted her to be sad, he would've wanted her to move on and be her happy go lucky self. Mabel would have too, but Mabel wasn't here.

Only half of Mabel.

She knew she was being selfish, but that's just what she was. Her biggest regret.

If she could just talk to Dipper one more time she'd tell him she was sorry.

Sorry for always being the selfish twin.

She had tried asking Great Uncle Ford if he could build a time machine to go back and save Dipper, but he said it was "not possible given today's technology".

Half of Mabel had a feeling he'd already tried.

She had had the brilliant idea the other day to try and contact Blenden Blanden, but she realized she had no way to talk to him.

Now she sat, hopeless, trying to will herself to be okay again, to be whole again.

But half of Mabel just wasn't.

She stretched her hand out beside her to pet Waddles for comfort, he was allowed to come back to California with half of Mabel because after what happened with Dipper her parents couldn't rightfully say no.

However, he wasn't there.

Half of Mabel's outstretched hand met nothing but air, she peered around her room curiously.

Where had he gotten off to?

She turned back to the window, deciding to look for Waddles later.

That's when she saw it.

Outside in the woods near the house, she saw a ball of pink dragging what appeared to be a small boy.

Half of Mabel rushed to the back door, horrified as her sweet pig dragged some kid kicking and screaming out of the woods.

She was halfway out the door when her heart stopped.

Waddles dropped the boy near the edge of the yard, stealing the kid's hat Waddles bounded over to Mabel.

Slowly, not daring to believe, Mabel took the hat from her pig. It was tattered and covered in dirt and blood. On the front of the hat, there was a symbol.

A pine tree.

0

He did it!

Waddles was so proud of himself, he'd found the lost one!

Surely his human would be happy now.


	6. Chapter 6: Breaking Point

Chapter 6: Breaking Point

Whatever fondness Pinetree had had for the swine was officially disregarded as Bill was dragged through the woods by his collar.

The pig was only 15 pounds but Bill was weak and tired and half curious as to where the animal was taking him.

So, he was dragged, thrashing and clawing the ground as he went.

He wasn't dragged far, however, just away from the creek where the forest ended was what appeared to be a human home.

The pink flesh-creature dropped Bill unceremoniously on the lawn and very rudely stole his hat before taking off.

Bill swiftly regained his feet and assessed his surroundings.

The backyard was large and well kept, the modest house sat in what appeared to be a quiet area of a large city.

If Bill had looked where he had come from he would have seen the woods were nothing more than about half a mile clump of trees with no connecting woodlands.

Bill also would have wondered how he had gotten there without ever seeming to leave the Gravity Falls woods.

But Bill didn't look back.

He was too focused on the figure who was the center of the scene.

There, dressed in a plain grey Tshirt and jean shorts was Mabel Pines.

Bill almost hadn't recognized the obnoxious girl he knew, probably because she looked completely different.

Her long brown hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, her clothes were wrinkled as if she hadn't cared to change them in a while.

Most disturbingly, her big brown eyes, normally filled with disgusting levels of innocence and excitement, were vacant.

It took a lot to disturb Bill, he was a god of madness, twisting nature to his perverted whims and laughing at the pleading cries of those who suffered by consequence.

But the look that haunted Shooting star…

It was beyond unnatural.

Bills eyes fell to the grass, unable to look at her anymore, wishing his body didn't have that nasty habit of making his throat close up in "emotional" situations.

Shooting star made a small noise, perhaps a word, if the wind had been blowing even slightly Bill would have missed it.

He tried to look at her again, forcing himself to believe he was still an unfeeling hell creature.

He managed to look up slightly, his sight landing on her hands...and what she held.

His hat.

 _Pinetree's_ hat.

His heartbeat quickened against his wishes, his mind began to race through ways to get away, to leave the situation behind.

All reality checks had been abandoned, he couldn't focus on not feeling, he couldn't focus on anything except what Shooting star would say next. He already knew what she was going to say, what she already said.

She repeated, slightly louder now, that word.

"Dipper?".

0

Mabel stared unblinkingly at the doppelganger. It couldn't be Dipper.

She had wished and prayed for days for him to return, they'd never found his body after all, but he never had.

Why would he return after she'd already given up hope? Why would he want to hurt her like that?

He had promised, he'd said in the court of mabeland that he'd always be there, that they'd get to grow up together.

He broke that promise.

Why would he come back now?

Dipper stared at the ground, his face was white as a sheet and...was that blood?

Suddenly Mabel switched gears entirely.

Dipper was hurt! She had been so caught up in self-pity she hadn't noticed the bruises that were so obvious on his skin, the blood coating his hair, the awkward, stiff way he stood.

She desperately wanted to bring him inside, help clean him up, tell their parents he was ok.

Perhaps...just maybe… he was really home.

"Dipper?" the word was just a breath. She couldn't bring herself to say it louder for fear she was somehow wrong.

His eyes rose slightly.

Yes! He responded! It really was him.

Her heart beat like a hummingbirds wing, her mind was being carried away by the euphoric thoughts of having a brother again.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she tried to force herself to step towards him, but her legs wouldn't move through an irrational fear he may disappear like a mirage.

He stayed silent.

He stared at her hands looking more and more like the picture of anxiety.

What did he possibly have to be scared of?

She managed to steady her voice as she spoke again.

"Dipper?".

0

Upon hearing that word Bill lost all composure.

His eyes shut and a mind-numbing wave of nausea hit him.

He stumbled back a few steps, trying his best not to collapse onto his knees.

Her voice was so familiar to Pinetree's ears, she was a part of him, so vibrant and delightful and yet she sounded so...broken.

Pinetree's body was at a physical and emotional breaking point.

The mere thought of Mab-Shooting star being any less than herself was enough to send him into a fit of worry and guilt, both emotions Bill was not equipt to handle.

Bill had to admit, Pinetree's body had withstood a lot from Bill. It was beyond durable, it was resilient and powerful and surprisingly adaptable. But Bill found out in that moment one very important thing.

He had finally asked too much of it.


	7. Chapter 7: How Dare You

Chapter 7: How Dare You

"Dipper?"

Mabel didn't know what she expected.

Maybe an answer, or at least for him to look her in the eye.

What she didn't expect was for him to visibly shudder and stumble backward.

He squeezed his eyes shut and wrapped his arms around his middle, his legs wobbled under him as sweat began to drip down his forehead.

Mabel's worry was really building now, she didn't know what she'd do if he passed out. Their parents wouldn't be home for hours and she didn't want to call 911, what if they asked what happened to him? Especially since he was supposedly dead.

His breathing was growing heavy and fast as though he was running out of oxygen.

Mabel could only watch as he doubled over, vomited blood, and collapsed on the ground.

0

Black

That was all Bill could see.

Gingerly he reached his hand out, trying to get his bearings in the udder darkness.

Nothing met his fingers.

He reasoned with himself that he must be asleep. He couldn't remember where or when he had fallen asleep but this was a similar feeling, as well as the only logical explanation.

He stretched the edges of his mind, trying to find the edge of the darkness.

It seemed to stretch forever, or at least farther than his human brain could grasp.

It went eternally in each direction, empty, void.

Save for a presence.

Bill almost hadn't noticed the feeling of being watched, whoever was present was hiding from him.

Not hiding very well, however as Bill's superior understanding of the mindscape helped him identify the presence in record time.

"I WAS WONDERING WHEN I'D HEAR FROM YOU, PINETREE."

Dipper Pines appeared slowly out of the darkness, melting into Bills view.

"You underestimated me Bill, and I took you down with me." Pinetree's voice was soft and far steadier than it had been when he was alive. It was unsettling.

"I HAVE TO HAND IT TO YOU KID, A BINDING? I HONESTLY DIDN'T SEE THAT ONE COMING. FIRST OF ALL, HOW DARE YOU. SECONDLY, WHERE'D YOU LEARN SOMETHING LIKE THAT ANYWAY?" Bill had seen it as a possibility, but he hadn't thought Pinetree was crafty enough.

"Let's just say my great uncle put more in those journals than you knew about." The kids face looked part smug part disgusted, it wasn't a good look on him.

Bill decided the best approach was a seemingly curious one, without access to all knowledge in existence Bill was feeling a little ignorant.

"SO YOU BOUND ME TO YOU, THAT WAS YOUR MASTER PLAN?"

"I guess it was, it worked didn't it?"

"WHAT EXACTLY HAVE YOU ACCOMPLISHED? ALL THIS HAS REALLY DONE IS STALL MY PROGRESS AS WELL AS YOUR COMPLETE DEATH." Bill knew Pinetree had probably done it as some pathetic fail-safe, but he wanted to hear it from the kid himself.

"What did I accomplish?" Pinetree's tone was icy, without his pathetic need for approval he was a pretty effective intimidator. If you were anyone other than Bill that is. "I've stopped your reign of terror, I've trapped you, Bill."

Bill was about to make a quip about being untrappable but he stopped himself. He'd wake up soon and there was still one answer he needed most.

"SO…" He started casually, leveling the field. "WHAT DOES THIS ENTAIL?"

"Pardon?"

"Y'KNOW, WHAT ARE THE TERMS OF THIS BINDING?" Pine tree seemed to think for a moment. He finally relented.

"Might as well tell so you know just how fucked you are," His face didn't hide his pride very well, apparently trapping an all-powerful god was an ego boost. "You are bound to me until you spend a lifetime in my shoes."

"HAH" And Bill had actually thought Pinetree had something clever. " YOUR HUMAN LIFE SPAN IS A MERE MOMENT IN THE GRAND SCHEME OF MY EXISTENCE! YOU HAVE ACCOMPLISHED NOTHING." Bill wasn't looking forward to the next 80 years or so, but it was nothing compared to the billion years he'd already waited.

But Pinetree still had that smirk…

"You're wrong Bill, it's not my lifetime… you see I'm dead," he spoke slowly. Building to something. "It's _your_ lifetime."

Bill was about to laugh again but stopped.

"NO THAT'S NOT HO-"

"Well, that's how I made it work!" He cut Bill off, irritation now evident. "You and I are stuck together for the rest of time, I don't plan on getting bored of being a ghost, and I don't plan on letting you go so get comfy."

And with that, he melted back into the blackness.

0

Mabel stood shocked for a moment, it was fine, everything was ok.

Dipper laid motionless on the grass, he was in bad shape, worse than Mabel had ever seen. She had just got him back, what if she lost him again?

She stared down at her brother's limp form.

Well, this was getting her nowhere. If she just stood there he'd probably die or something so she had to act now.

Hooking her arms under his armpits she slowly began dragging him back toward the house.

It didn't take too much work given he was a pretty small guy, as she reached the back steps she motioned for Waddles to hold open the door.

Mabel could tell Waddles was proud of himself for finding Dipper, she'd have to remember to give him a nice crunchy potato later.

Mabel hauled Dipper onto the couch and ran for the first aid kit. Her mind was still in a whirlwind from Dipper being back and all the emotional strain that accompanied that, but she couldn't focus on that now.

She was done being selfish.

She returned to Dippers sleeping self with a first aid kit, ice packs, wet paper towels, and an unopened box of band-aids.

She used the paper towels to clean some of the dirt off the scratches on his arms. Using the disinfectant from the first aid kit she carefully placed animal themed band-aids on every one of the little cuts.

Now for the part she was dreading, she brushed Dippers hair away from the large scrape on his head.

Angry red skin surrounded the scratch, it was heavily scabbed over and looked a little infected.

Mabel's focus was drawn away, however, by Dipper shifting and making some kind of mumbling noise. Mabel focused on Dippers face willing him to wake up.

His eyelids fluttered as he started to regain consciousness.

Ever so slowly Dippers eyes adjusted to the light, his eyes met Mabel's.

Yellow with slits for pupils.

The sight of those familiar eyes hit Mabel so hard she physically stumbled back a little.

She should have known, he'd never be done tormenting her. That demon was beyond evil, he would do or say anything to get what he wanted.

But impersonating her brother...making her actually believe he was back, making her believe in a future where she could be whole...and ripping that away from her.

The demon looked up at her, using Dippers face to look apprehensive, almost convincingly so.

Her throat closed with bile and hatred, she could only bear one phrase passing her lips.

"How dare you."


	8. Chapter 8: Please Don't Cry

I am living for all your wonderful reviews! Smooches for everyone.

Chapter 8: Please Don't Cry

When Bill awoke, he found himself on a couch in an unfamiliar room.

The ever-present pain was dulled by his half-conscious state.

He could hear Shooting Star looking for something in the next room, her pig, however, was still in the room with Bill.

Bill had never seen a pig with such a shit-eating grin.

Pushing the swine from his mind he took a moment to process his vision of Pinetree, there was no way Bill was actually trapped in this emotional, prepubescent garbage bag.

He would find a way out, human bodies were easy to destroy.

And with that, he lost consciousness again.

However when Bill awoke the second time it was a whole different story.

He didn't know what he was seeing at first, his eyes needed a minute to adjust to the light, but when they did the sight that greeted him was not friendly. He hardly had time to notice the band-aids on his arms.

Shooting star stared down at him with a disgust and hatred that made Pinetree's whole body tremble.

"How dare you."

The simple 3-word phrase dripped with such fury Bill thought Pinetree's body might puke again.

She stared down at him as if expecting him to do something.

There was nothing he _could_ do.

He was too wounded to move, too under practiced to speak, and too emotionally attached to attack her. He was trapped, and he was really getting sick of being trapped.

Bill could only stare as tears welled up in her eyes and she began to tremble with rage.

"Well?" she spat the word like she wanted it to skewer him like a spear. "What do you have to say?! Why are you here? What more could you _possibly_ want from me!?" she shot the line of questions in one breath.

Bill didn't have an answer, so he said nothing.

"You take my summer! You take my best friend! You almost take my planet! We...we beat you! Fair and square!" she was pacing now, her anger so fierce she could hardly keep her train of thought.

Her stomping brought her to a corner of the room with a strangely shaped bag on the floor. She opened it and produced a fancy looking mini golf club.

"You vile triangular menace! You have NO right! I can't believe something like you even...AAUGH!" she continued pacing, punctuating each sentence by swinging the club angrily around the room.

"And you know what the worst part is?" she pointed the club accusingly at Bill. "I was _heartbroken_ when they said they couldn't find his body! Cause I still wanted to see him one last time."

She brought the club up over her shoulder as if to swing it at Bill.

"Now here you are, wearing his skin like a cheap suit!" she held the club higher preparing to swing. But she didn't.

Tears leaked down her cheeks as she lowered the club to the ground in defeat.

"I wanna hurt you, I want you out of my brother's body." she was no longer yelling. Tears pouring like a faucet down her face. She lowered to her knees next to the couch.

"G-get out.." she mumbled through her tears, lightly punching Bills stomach. "Get out...just leave us…" she punched him twice more, but she'd used up so much energy being mad there wasn't anything behind the punch.

She continued lightly bringing her fists down on Bills already injured body and mumbling things to the carpet.

Waddles, who had been hiding from the yelling, trotted over to her and lightly squealed. The pig then tugged at her skirt and finally conceded to lay next to her while she hit Bill.

Bill didn't need Pinetree's emotions to understand what a sad sight it was.

Pinetree's body was not as accepting, it hated seeing Mabel so distraught. And Bill was indeed a prisoner to the whims of this fleshbag.

He grabbed one of Shooting star's fists in each hand and slowly sat up on the couch.

She looked up at him, her eyes more hopeless than angry now. Bill tried to ignore the tightness in his chest at seeing those eyes.

He thought very carefully about what he was going to say, how he was going to say it, and how to move his mouth to make it happen.

Finally, he spoke.

"Please don't cry."

Bill had practiced speaking in the woods, but he'd never get over how much softer his voice was than his thoughts.

Shooting star did stop crying, her face changed from hopeless sorrow to slight curiosity.

Her face fell to look at the floor, thinking.

After a pause that felt like hours, she removed her hands from Bills grip and stood.

Bill expected her to walk away or say something, not put her hand on his head.

Bill was confused at first, but quickly realized she was looking at his head wound.

But why?

Suddenly she spoke

"I don't know what you want or why you're here, but you're in Dipper's body, and it doesn't look like you've been taking care of it." her voice was cold, almost numb. "What did you do? Throw yourself down the stairs?"

It took a minute for Bill to realize she expected an actual answer. He thought about it.

"Gnomes" he decided simple answers were easiest.

She looked confused but didn't question.

She left the room looking for something, when she returned she held a medium metal box.

She set the box on the floor and opened it, inside was a whole sewing kit.

Catching Shooting star's drift, Bill was far more confused than before. Why would she still be helping him? She knew he was the enemy.

"Luckily I'm an arts and crafts master, so this shouldn't be so hard." her voice shook in a way that made Bill believe she really didn't know what to do. Sewing flesh was far different than sewing fabric.

She must have figured it out though because 15 minutes later she stepped back from her work looking satisfied.

She packed up her sewing kit and began making her way back to her room, but Bill interrupted with a calculated, one-word question.

"Why?"

Shooting star stopped dead. Slowly she turned her head to the side so it was half facing him.

"I can't have you killing Dippers body before Grunkle Ford gets you out of it."

And with that, she left Bill alone on the couch.


	9. Chapter 9: Holding

Chapter 9: Holding

Well, this wasn't exactly part of Bill's 5-year plan.

His body had been healing steadily, an incredible feat if he was honest, and his speech had been improving greatly with the amount of practice he got in.

It was a charmed little life for a human-bound lord of ultimate destruction. He got two meals a day, his own room, and was even allowed to talk to waddles once in a while, although Shooting star probably didn't know about that part.

He wasn't allowed to leave his room, except to use the bathroom of course, but compared to what Bill had expected to receive in terms of hospitality his setup was nothing to sneeze at.

He should be upset, he knew that, he should be mad about being treated like a prisoner, or scared of what 6er will do when he finally answers Shooting star's calls. But he had already spent a few weeks there and Shooting star was off at school most days so with that much alone time to stew about it, he just didn't have the energy to rant at waddles anymore.

It's not like there wasn't anything to do locked in a room, Bill made due with what he had.

Killing and tearing apart bugs, nothing unusual.

Shooting star never spoke to him.

She had been so distant, and she had to be to keep the suspicion from her parents low but still, Bill couldn't shake the feeling she was just kinda scared of him.

However, when she went to school she could never stop a certain swine from sitting at the door.

0

Waddles didn't know what to make of the boy human. He was definitely the same human but he smelled different. His human hadn't been as happy to see him as Waddles had hoped.

He knew she had a name, doorbell or something, but Waddles was a simple pig with a simple knowledge of language.

The boy human didn't seem to know language either since he talked way less than Doorbell.

Oh, now Waddles was getting ahead of himself.

It all started 4 years ago when-no no that's too far…

A fortnight! Yes two weeks ago, that's when it started.

When the boy human gave Waddles his potatoes when Doorbell wasn't looking. Waddles started hanging out with him more often, and the first thing waddles learned was the boy was creepy.

He made sculptures out of spiders and bugs he found in his pen. And he would do nothing but talk to himself for hours sometimes repeating the same phrase over and over.

But Waddles didn't mind, he was just a pig who wanted potatoes, who was he to judge?

Sometimes Waddles wondered if the boy did creepy things just so people would ask him why he did them. No one really paid attention to the creepy boy or talked to him ever. Maybe he just wanted people to pay attention to him?

But that was enough wondering for one day, Waddles smelled pot roast! Cooked carrots and cabbage, yum!

0

Mabel was distraught.

She knew her Grunkles were busy in the north having the adventure of a lifetime, but she needed Grunkle Ford's nerdy wisdom now! And she really just wanted to talk to Grunkle Stan, he always knew how to make her feel better.

Bottom line, she needed an adult. Sure that demon was trapped and couldn't do anything, but he still freaked her out. Who knows how long she could keep him locked up? Should she be doing more? Questioning him?

Mabel sighed as she put the phone back onto its stand after leaving her 40th message.

Dipper would know what to do.

He always had a plan or some insight that could help. He was the smart one, not Mabel.

Mabel couldn't help but feel like she'd taken that for granted.

Well, nothing could be done for it now, she decided. She scooped her backpack off the floor and ran to catch the bus to school.

0

-Somewhere near the Arctic Ocean-

Stanly Pines was getting too old for this.

Living on a boat was hard work what with all the chores and the rocking and the small living space. Not to mention all the monsters they encountered for Ford's research.

It was cramped and smelly and bad on his back.

He wouldn't trade it for anything.

Ford was in his study cataloging the giant squid thing they'd encountered that afternoon when Stans pocket radio went off.

"Tony whaddya want?" Tony was a friend they had check on their stuff back at camp to make sure no one stole anything.

"Uhh, look, Stan, you gotta 'bouta 'undred calls froma little gurl, sayin she's your niece?"

Stan would love to talk to Mabel, not that he'd ever tell her that of course, but he and Ford were in the middle something big.

"Save em, we'll be back in about a month." Stan decided.

"Look chief, this sounds pretty importan', demons an' people comin' back froma' dead and all that...you should really 'ear sommat this stuff."

Stan froze.

No, there was no way, that triangle piece of shit died along with….nevermind, he had to tell Ford.

He hung up pretty abruptly on Tony, but there were bigger things at stake.

He rushed into Fords office.

"Not now Stanly I'm busy"

"You're gonna wanna hear this bro" Ford looked up from his work briefly.

"This had better be important."

"It's Mabel"

Ford was immediately all ears. After Dipper well...he couldn't think of anything bad happening to Mabel too.

"What is it, Stanly? Is she alright?"

"I dunno Ford, Tony says she's been tryin to get ahold of us. Talkin about demons…" Fords stomach dropped.

"You...you don't think..?"

"I dunno what to think, this is your expedition, what do we do?" Ford thought for a moment. If that...that _thing_ was still around it could spell disaster. And if it had Mabel? Research be damned.

"We head back to camp, we can't let this one go."

Stan ran back to the wheel of the ship, a huge grin spreading over his face.

Great minds think alike.


	10. Chapter 10: I'm Not Afraid

Back into the swing of things with chapter ten. Sorry it's been so long my writing comes and goes like a partially screwed in lightbulb receiving electricity.

10: I'm Not Afraid

It was unsettling, Ford thought to himself, to see Mabel and Di-

To see _Mabel's_ parents for the first time. There was something fundamentally off about the sight, something Ford could barely put his finger on.

He was tense to say the least, he mostly hung back as Stan used his charisma to try to explain what they were doing showing up at the pines house unannounced. He checked his watch out of habit and found it had only been a few minutes since he last checked his watch for no reason.

They looked good, Mr. and Mrs. pines that is. Almost _too_ normal. As if they weren't even part of the devastatingly strange story Ford and his family lived in. It was unsettling to think they weren't supposed to be there at all.

Ford grew impatient as Stan skirted the issue at hand. Discussing the weather and other pleasantries. He would never understand why Stanley didn't just get to the point when he was talking to people.

He checked his watch again.

Not even a minute had passed since the last time he'd checked it. Finally his patience wore out.

"We think your daughter may be in danger."

That effectively cut off the conversation. He wasn't listening to what they were talking about anyway.

Stanley looked at him like he just blurted out that they had a bomb with them. He fumbled at Ford's declaration and tried swiftly to smooth it over.

"Now that sounds bad but Ford's just dramatic, see we-"

"Stanley we don't have time for this, what if he's already harmed Mabel?" Ford was growing more frantic as Stanley seemed to be forgetting the gravity of the situation.

Stan tried to keep a cool facade as the Pines parents expressed their shock. Seeing there was no weaseling out of Ford's lack of subtlety he just let out a defeated "oh boy".

0

Mabel could hear the conversation in the other room but chose to ignore what was being said. She was too focused on trying to be scary.

"You know Uncle Ford's gonna cut you out of Dippers body and make you into triominos."

"Doesn't work like that" Bill countered lazily. Shooting star had been up to this intimidation game since the old men arrived. It was effective at first, in a manic shooting star kind of way, but now it was just tiresome.

"Yeah well... He's gonna make it work just you watch! He'll make you sorry you messed with our family"

"Sure"

Mabel was red in the face now. She wasn't that angry anymore honestly, that had given way to more sadness weeks ago, but it just felt so good to yell. Shooting meaningless insults at the demon and coming up with clever triangle-based threats was familiar in a disturbing way.

Having Bill as a prisoner was not something she thought possible much less something she thought she'd ever do. Having him in Dippers body was even more bizarre, and the way he was acting...it wasn't like him. He seemed defeated, and though it was satisfying to see him suffer like this it still hit a little too close to come.

But triangle based insults? That she could do.

"I don't like knock off brand Doritos. And keeping you alive is getting less and less worth it."

"Did you just threaten to kill me?"

"Maybe I did! You don't know do you? You don't know anything without your precious omniscience!"

"Damn shooting star you got cruel while I was gone, and here I thought you were the nice twin." Bill smiled slightly, manipulation was familiar, it made him feel more in control.

Mabel was visibly shaking at the insult. Who was Bill to judge her for being different after what _he_ put her through. What _he_ did to Dipper.

Then she noticed the stupid smirk Bill had on Dippers face. He liked getting a rise out of her, and she had to admit it was almost comforting seeing Bill be a mean again, instead of quiet and passive. It was a scary comfort and she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of making her angry.

Taking a deep breath she replied steadily.

"I can't afford to be the nice twin when I'm the only twin left."

She turned on her heel and closed the door behind her. But not before she saw the way Bill's smirk fell off his face in horror.

0

Maybe Shooting Star was possessed too. Because that sentence, the bone chilling tone, the deliberate exit. That wasn't her.

Bill was convinced if this Shooting star were to try using the zodiac it wouldn't work. The energy wasn't hers. Someone had taken it from her and replaced it with a calculating cold person with no joy in their spirit. An energy more befitting sixer, he mused.

He lied down on the rug and stared at the stupid popcorn ceiling of his prison. His speech was improving greatly and he could now use his silly flesh fingers for fine tuned things like braiding and tying knots.

He had practiced with the stringy hair on his borrowed head until Mabel yelled at him to knock it off. His hair, or Dippers more accurately, was really becoming unkempt. His skin felt dry and he couldn't help his mind wandering back to the creek in the woods and how nice the water had been.

He wasn't surprised a human body would long for water, it is what built this particular species, but he didn't expect it to be genuinely fun like a toy. And oh how bored he was in his cell.

The bugs gave him some entertainment but eventually they learned to avoid him, which was impressive if frustrating.

The pig still found its way to his room and managed to get in even when the door was shut. It was unsettling and Bill wished it would leave him alone.

In all this time he had done many things in this room. He practiced the use of his prison of a body, he made things with the materials at his disposal, he destroyed the things he made, and he made them again. All this yet the one thing he could not focus on doing was planning a way out.

Every time he tried to consider an escape or at least a plea bargain he just shut down and dwelled on how screwed he was. It was a self fulfilling prophecy.

All he could do was wait and see what Ford had in store for him. And he wasn't scared.

Even though his heart pounded and his mouth dried up and his eyes pricked with tears at the thought of what horrible revenge the pines could inflict he was not scared. It was just the bodies reaction. He was an ultimate being and he did not fear humans. Even though he now was one he was not afraid. Even though his body stopped being scared the dread in his mind couldn't possibly be his.

The door opened loudly shocking Bill out of his dark thoughts. There in the door frame were the two identical figures he'd been waiting for.

"Stanley you grab that and I'll get Mabel, they won't be asleep for long" Ford's command was loud and slightly frantic as he rushed back into the other room.

Before Bill knew what was happening Stan grabbed him roughly by the arm and dragged him out of his room. He didn't have time to remember how his legs worked as Stan dragged him across the house yelling "Dammit Ford are you nuts?!"

In the kitchen Mabel was following Ford out the door and looking back at two passed out figures on the floor. Bill fought weakly against Stans grip but Stan refused to look at him and barely seemed to notice his struggling.

Bill wanted to go back to his room. It wasn't super nice but at least it was his.

"What do we do with it now?" Stanley's voice was dismissive and slightly uncomfortable. As he dragged Bill out of the house to Ford.

"Ah hmm uh... here" Fords still seemed to be panicking as he thought quickly. He pulled out a small device that Dippers memory supplied looked like a tazer.

Ford grabbed Bills other arm and pressed the device to his skin. Time slowed down as the world went white. His heart was pounding and the blood rushing to his limbs was pleading for him to run but he knew he wasn't scared, he couldn't be scared. This horrible sick feeling couldn't possibly be his.

"Well it sure isn't me Cipher" a disturbingly familiar voice spoke at the edge of Bills consciousness.

And everything went black.


	11. Chapter 11: New Arrangements

As an apology for the inconsistent way I write this time I have an extra long chapter for you lovely readers.

DAY ONE OF MY CAPTIVITY BY THE PINES CULT:

I AM WRITING THIS ON THE WALL WITH THE BLOOD OF MY ENEMIES TO RELAY THE HARROWING ORDEAL OF MY CAPTURE. I WILL KEEP THIS BRIEF AS TO NOT TAKE UP TOO MUCH SPACE.

Bill sat back and looked at the wall where he had already run out of space for his memoir. He twirled the red crayola marker between his fingers as he considered washing the writing off and starting again.

He adjusted his sitting position for probably the trillionth time but he still didn't feel comfortable. You'd think he'd grow used to the hard tile floor of the kitchen after four days of sitting on it, but his meat prison only seemed to get used to harsh conditions when they're already unbearable, not just uncomfortable.

He had woken up here on this sticky floor after being forcibly removed from his last prison, and he had to say he liked this setup _far_ less. At least in his room he had some semblance of privacy even though shooting star could come and go as she pleased. Now sitting on the floor of a very public room he would give almost anything to write his thoughts out in private.

He set the marker down on the floor and it clicked on the harsh surface.

About two days ago shooting star caught him scratching at the walls and floor until his fingers bled. She reported it to the Stans and they tried to stop him. Tying his arms together, threatening him with weapons, covering the walls. In the end it was shooting star who actually asked him why he was doing it. Bill told her he wanted to write something and she gave him a marker.

She's still wouldn't look him in the eye.

As much as he hated sitting on the floor there was nothing physically keeping him there. The only restraint was a circle drawn on the floor with chalk. And a promise he'll be shot on sight if he steps outside of it.

He tried his best not to wonder about the Pines and what exactly their plan was, but he found himself deliberating it anyway. Did they think they could just wait for him to die? His body would outlive the Stan's at least, so that wasn't a likely scenario. Perhaps they planned to starve him out, he only got one meal a day now and that's if they remembered to feed him at all.

Bill hated his treacherous mind for fixating on this. Damned human curiosity!

However anxious the situation made him, he found he quite liked the thinking part. Pinetrees' mind was quite sharp and good at putting things together. He could easily weigh the pros and cons, find connections, and even draw pretty impressive conclusions from those connections. Bill had to admit, if he had to lose his omniscience for a human psyche there were worse trade-offs than Pinetrees'.

But the fear of the Pines still plagued him. What if they didn't have a plan to get Bill out of pinetree? What if they were just acting in anger and only brought him here for revenge? What if their only plan was to hurt him until he died and they couldn't anymore. It was the scariest thought his mind had given him, made all the scarier by how _likely_ it was. Just because Pinetrees' mind was rational doesn't mean the others were.

0

"We can't just leave it in the kitchen forever Poindexter"

Stan leaned lazily against a counter in Ford's lab. To the untrained eye, it would seem that he was completely unfazed by the demon/dead nephew in the other room. Ford, however, was anything but untrained and could tell without even turning around that Stans nerves were shot.

Ford slouched over his desk with his hands planted firmly on its surface. He had spent the last four days pouring over the photocopies Stan had made of his third journal hoping to find some answers, anything he'd overlooked. The other two journals had been incinerated during weirdmaggedon, decades of research up in flames with nothing but a few shotty photocopies left behind.

"You hear me bro?" Stan sounded marginally more worried. Ford shook himself out of his frustration.

"No sorry... what did you say?"

"Wow you really are gettin old if you're that deaf." Stan chuckled at his own joke. "I said we can't keep him in the kitchen forever. Your weird notebooks aren't gonna help you so we gotta figure something out."

Ford shook his head and stared back at his desk. "No Stanley, it's like trying to make you leave your body, I'd have to kill you."

"Well why don't we just kill it then? Fuckin Menace has lived long enough in my opinion."

Ford was silent for a moment. There was only one reason, one stupid hopeful reason, why he hadn't done just that.

"I think we can get Dipper back."

Stan scoffed. "Now you're just in denial"

"I'm serious Stanley! There's nothing physically wrong with Dippers body it's just...it's got a squatter." Ford threw a wrench into the mess to accentuate his words. It landed with a crash like broken glass and the sound of a stray cat yowling in fright.

He whirled around and started striding towards Stan, he gripped his brother by the shoulders and practically shook him as he spoke.

"If there's even a chance Dippers energy is still keeping it together out there we _have_ to try right? We have to get his body back for him."

Stan blinked twice. "You're telling me you believe in ghosts now?"

"No I don't believe in ghosts! I have scientifically and mathematically proven the existence of ghosts!" Ford sounded manic now. Come to think of it he'd seemed pretty manic since they brought the demon back.

Ford's hair stuck straight up and his unshaven sideburns here starting to look more like mutton chops. His eyes were red and he hadn't blinked throughout the entire conversation. Stan remembered how he looked that fateful day 30 years ago when Ford called him out to the middle of nowhere. Stan looked at the Ford standing before him with his hands still on Stans shoulders and he feared Ford was heading there again.

"Look it's not like we're on a time limit. Why don't you take a nap, have a Gatorade, maybe circle back to this huh?"

Ford just continued to stare. Then he snapped away from his brother and answered hastily "no."

Ford slowly trudged back to his desk. "Oh no Stanley we _are_ on a time limit. Who knows how long Dipper can keep his energy together in the mindscape. Who knows if he's already...we have to figure this out as fast as possible."

"Look I-"

"You should go you're distracting me."

Stan opened his mouth to argue but snapped it shut when he saw the shaking in Fords shoulders.

Probably best to leave him alone.

0

Mabel was doing ok, she guessed. They'd left in such a hurry she couldn't bring waddles. She decided it's for the best, her parents would be lonely with her gone and waddles could help keep them company. They must have been stressed to fall asleep on the kitchen floor like that.

She stopped going to school which was fine, she got time off for mourning anyway. She read books and watched TV and sometimes Grunkle Stan would hang out with her. She woke up, had a day, and went back to sleep. Then she did it again the next day.

She didn't color.

She didn't bake.

She didn't talk to anyone new.

She didn't play with her brother.

But that was fine. She had an ok time with her Grunkles. Today however she hadn't seen either of them. In her suspicion she wandered the house and wound up where she didn't want to be. Where she knew she'd end up.

"Hello shooting star." Bill looked like absolute garbage. He was ragged and dirty and greasy. His clothes clung to his sweat and his hair was so matted it looked flat. On top of this he reeked to no end. Mabel had to hold her breath to give him his food.

"You done with my marker?" She knew the answer seeing the wall covered in poorly sized words written in capital letters. He had to be done there wasn't any room left.

"Um... actually could I keep it a while longer?"

Mabel raised an eyebrow. There was something off about the question. He asked it so cautiously, like he really cared about getting the right answer. What would Bill even do with a marker and no drawing room?

"Why."

Bill swallowed, he didn't want to tell her. "To...just to have?"

Mabel looked closer at the writing, then at Bill. He was looking at the ground and gripping the marker tightly. Something on the ground caught Mabel's eye. There on the ground near the wall Bill was drawing what looked like a leaf pattern.

"You want it to draw?"

Bills eyes filled with panic as he tried to hide the drawing. "No! I want to have it cause if I have it you don't! Obviously…"

Mabel was used to Bills fake cruelty by now. He was trying to save face, but why?

"What are you embarrassed?" She laughed a hollow laugh.

Bill shifted a little under Shooting Stars condescending gaze. He didn't answer.

Mabel wasn't sure why Bill was acting so off but something about the simple drawing pulled at her.

"Why leaves?" She asked, her stone hard tone slightly softer.

Bill eyed her warily looking for a trap.

"I found them in the woods…" he spoke carefully. "I liked them"

Mabel stood there for a moment replaying the words in her head looking for red flags. Something was weird, Bills motives are never this... innocent. She serveyed him for a moment more before she spoke.

"Whatever, keep it, I don't care." Then she walked away without a second glance.

Bill let out a breath he was well aware he'd been holding. Quickly he uncapped the marker and continued his doodling. This was the only slightly fun thing he'd been able to do in this place and he really wasn't willing to give it up. As he doodled and the leaves took shape he thought back to the woods where he woke up. The leaves that felt so different with hands of his own. He remembered their pretty reds and yellows and tried to get each individual shape right. This escape wasn't much, but it was a mercy he was thankful for.

Mabel returned to her room not having much else to do. She thought back on her conversation with Bill. They always went like that. Both expected the other to be hostile yet neither was willing to start it. So it became a weirdly careful conversation based on the mutual understanding that neither of them wanted to be there. That was the worst part. Mabel didn't draw or cook or talk really but she did think. She thought about Dipper, but more and more she found herself thinking about Bill.

0

Waddles was _distraught_. Nothing was going like his horoscope had said it would. His kids were gone and the big humans were always too busy making phone calls and talking to people in weird hats to tell him where they were. Waddles was indeed upset so he thought to himself. He was a simple pig, but a pig had to do what a pig had to do.

He ate extra helpings of whatever he found in the garbage in preparation for his journey. He was going to find his kids or his name wasn't Waddles Dawson Booth Borden Pines!


End file.
